


Entertaining Angels

by consultingcas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 13:11:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8752876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/consultingcas/pseuds/consultingcas
Summary: Castiel spends Christmas Eve in an ancient church. It's not much, but the Christmas Eucharist reminds him of home. He receives an unexpected visitor.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Because Christmas for me is hanging out in freezing cold churches singing ancient Christmas carols, this was the first thing that came to mind when Spn Christmas Mixtape came on the scene. Also, I really wanted closure for Cas to finally get a chat with Chuck.
> 
> Dedicated to angelofthemoor, who suggested that I really should write more short-fiction.

Even after everything, all the doubt and bitterness and pain, Castiel still always ended up here. After every fresh disappointment, he vowed to forget about his father and give up seeking his approval. Yet here he was, spending Christmas Eve sat on a cold hard pew in an almost deserted church. It was almost midnight, a handful of people collected together to celebrate Eucharist. With the choir singing together in beautiful chorus, echoing around the stone walls, it felt almost like home. Father knows, Castiel struggled to find anywhere which gave him that sense of belonging.

 

He could have gone back to the bunker for Christmas. Dean and Sam didn’t make too much of a celebration of it, admittedly, but the companionship would be welcome. Castiel had grown tired of Crowley’s snide remarks and the search for Lucifer was wearying both of them. Yet something stopped him.

 

Because if I see what Heaven's become, what I made of it... I'm afraid I might kill myself.

 

Cas…You can't stay.

 

You’re useless to them, Castiel. That’s why they need me here, instead of you. Being my skinsack is all you’re good for.

 

Castiel closed his eyes for a moment, shutting out the painful thoughts. He tried to focus on the music, the familiar Latin soothing him. Gaudete, gaudete! Christus est natus. Ex Maria virgine, gaudete! He had sung something similar once with his garrison, proclaiming their joy to the still Bethlehem night. Castiel could still see them all now: Anna’s grace shining with pure happiness; Hester and Inias laughing; Balthazar’s voice rising in harmonious descant among the chorus. They had all been so optimistic then, so sure that this would be what changed things. Father would return and the archangels would stop their feuding. Heaven would be a family again. Instead it all ended with a hill called Calvary, harsh nails thudding into a cross. As Castiel took the bread and the wine, it left a bitter taste in his throat.

 

After communion was done and the congregation stood to sing a hymn, someone stepped into the pew next to Castiel. He glanced over in their direction, idly curious, only for his eyes to widen when he saw their face. Chuck Shurley. Father. Castiel still hadn’t got used to that development yet, too caught up in the end of the world and recovering from Lucifer’s use of his body. Their eyes met and Chuck shot him a bashful smile. Frowning, Castiel turned away.

 

The service soon ended, and Castiel quickly moved to leave. Not that he had much chance of getting away. Chuck caught his wrist. “Castiel, wait.”

 

For years, Castiel had thought about how he would react, if he were ever to meet his father. At first, he had fantasized about making him proud, the ever-dutiful soldier. Then the apocalypse came. Castiel had hoped, prayed, that his father would fix it all. That was what his faith had all been for, hadn’t it? Father was righteous and good. He couldn’t stand back and let the world be destroyed over an angel grudge match. It took a long time for Castiel to realize the truth. Father didn’t give a damn about them. If he did, he never would have left. It was the same reason he couldn’t be bothered to defend his creation from the Darkness until the Winchesters intervened.

 

So Castiel’s first response was to try and shrug him off, snapping angrily. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

 

It was useless. Chuck had his hand in an iron grip. “Hear me out. Just for a few minutes.”

 

“Give me one reason why I should.” Castiel glared back at him. “You’ve never bothered before.”

 

“I hear your prayers.” That simple statement was enough to stop Castiel in his tracks. “All that pain and self-doubt you feel, I feel it too, every day. I knew you wouldn’t be satisfied, once you knew who I was. You want an explanation.”

 

“Why weren’t you there?” Castiel asked, voice soft, barely daring to hear the answer. “I begged you to come back during the apocalypse. When Dean nearly said yes. After Gabriel died. Only the Darkness was enough for you to decide to get involved.”

 

“No one likes a helicopter parent. I was letting you figure it out for yourself.” Chuck’s nonchalance was infuriating. When he saw Castiel glaring at him, he sighed. “It’s no easier for me, watching my family tear itself apart. If anything, it’s worse. I have to hear all of you. Do you know what it’s like, hearing thousands of voices crying out for help every day? All those prayers that I can’t hope to answer.”

 

Castiel looked away. “Dean was right about you. You are just another deadbeat dad.”

 

“Don’t test me, Castiel.” There was enough steel in Chuck’s voice for Castiel to stop pushing. He had seen the flood after all. The smiting of Sodom and Gomorrah too. He knew what his Father was capable of.

 

“You gave me free will. It’s my choice, if I wish to question your judgment.” Castiel kept his voice level. “That’s why you like them so much, isn’t it? The humans.”

 

Chuck was stony-faced for a few moments, but then he let out a low chuckle. “The Winchesters have been rubbing off on you.”

 

“I take that as the highest of compliments.” Castiel smiled slightly.

 

“Why aren’t you with them, anyway? The Winchesters.” Chuck leaned back in the pew, surveying the stained glass window in front of them, depicting the Heavenly Host in all its glory.

 

“I have been trying to hunt down Lucifer. I believe in clearing up my messes.” Unlike you. “When that’s done, I intend to go home.”

 

“After all this time, you still think you don’t deserve them.” Chuck observed, with as much casualness as you would comment on the weather. Ignoring Castiel’s protests, he continued, “You blame yourself far more for what happened with Crowley and Purgatory than anyone else.”

 

“I took on the title of God. Slaughtered hundreds of angels. I let my pride and all that power corrupt me. How exactly am I supposed to come back from that?” Castiel said snidely.

 

Chuck sighed, "You always did care too much, Cas."

 

"Not that you were around much to notice." Castiel didn't look at him, couldn't look at him. "I can't forgive you for leaving us the way you did. Not yet, at least."

 

Chuck was silent for a long time. Finally, he got out, "I was there. I nudged you and the Winchesters in the right direction often enough. I wanted you to succeed."

 

"You didn't have to fix it all. Knowing you were there would have been enough. I thought you didn't care."

 

"I did care. I still do." Chuck watched Castiel with a steady gaze. "I've made enough mistakes for an eternity when it comes to my family, but you should know, I'm proud of you, Cas. You haven't turned out so badly."

 

A millenia ago, Castiel could think of no greater pleasure than hearing those words. Now, he felt numb. "Just answer sometimes, when I pray to you. Please."

 

Chuck nodded, "I can try. I should be going, but I want to see you again and fix this." He reached out a hand and rested it on Castiel's shoulder. "You've worked hard enough. Rest now, son."

 

Castiel felt the world shift around him, until he found himself standing outside the entrance to the bunker. He smiled, wasting no time to head on inside, towards home and family.


End file.
